


Sunday Morning

by silver_elysium



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_elysium/pseuds/silver_elysium
Summary: It was a Sunday afternoon in London, at SW19, and Roger Federer faced Marin Cilic for his 19th Grand Slam title.





	Sunday Morning

It was a Sunday afternoon in London, at SW19, and Roger Federer faced Marin Cilic for his 19th Grand Slam title. Meanwhile in Montreal, Canada, it was a Sunday morning and two of Roger's fans had made a deal to watch the final together. Scott knocks on Tessa's door but knows he needn't bother waiting for her to let him in, because obviously, she's not going to be awake at such an early hour on a Sunday. She loves to sleep long on the mornings she doesn't have to train. 

He has the keys to her flat, obviously, because half the nights he sleeps over at her place anyway. Last night he didn't, however. They had watched a film and cuddled and she fell asleep so he made sure she made it to her bed and he made the long journey home, to the other side of the same building and one floor down. 

Scott walked in and left the bagels and croissants he got for breakfast from the bakery across the street on the table in the living room and figured he'd better wake her before the match starts. He walked into her room and kneeled beside the bed. It was cute, he thought, that she only slept on "her" side of the bed, leaving the space where he'd usually lie empty. 

He gently strokes her hair and leaves a feathery kiss on her nose. She stirs, but doesn't open her eyes. "Teeesss..." He breathes into her ear. He plants another soft kiss next to where he just whispered her name. He can tell she's definitely not sleeping at this point, but her eyes are still closed and she isn't moving. "Tessa, I know you're awake." She fakes a snore still not moving. He laughs and says: "You leave me no choice." He dramatically crashes on the other side of her bed and groans. Then he leans over her and starts tickling her. She cannot pretend anymore and giggles bubble up inside her throat. She starts laughing loudly and uncontrollably and opens her eyes. The first sight she sees that day is his beaming smile as he stops tickling and just sits there straddling her legs, his hands resting on her sides. 

"Come on, get up! Do you want to miss Roger's final?" He asks, his energy in sharp contrast to her lazy smile and sleepy eyes. "Can't we stay another five minutes?" She asks and bats her eyelashes at him. "No! The breakfast is getting cold as it is. C'mon, get up, Virtue!" He is such a ball of energy, she thinks, and groans as he jumps off the bed and bolts out of the room.

She sits down on the sofa and turns the telly on. She watches him fiddle with the coffee machine in the kitchen through her morning eyes. She's wearing his sweatshirt which has now found permanent residence in her (his) drawer along with his underwear, shirts, socks and comfy trousers. 

"Here you go..." He says bringing her coffee and baked goods. It's Sunday and it's Wimbledon, nobody will be mad about the slight change in their diets. Nobody will find out, anyhow. She beams up at him, all gratefulness. He loves her smile and thinks there's no prettier sight in the world, not the Banff National park, not the Amalfi Coast, not any of the Louvre's exhibits, nothing compares to his Tessa. 

They eat enjoying the useless, but oh so delicious carbohydrates, the caffeine wakes Tessa and the excitement buzzes as the players warm up on the other side of the Atlantic. Miss Virtue sighs contentedly as she finishes her breakfast and Scott's done too. His legs are put up in front of him, he's sitting in the corner of the L shaped couch. Tessa nuzzles her face against his shoulder and he lifts his arm for her to snuggle under. He smells amazing, he always does. She smells slightly like vanilla, like the shower gel and body lotion she uses all the time. He can't get enough of the sweet smell, but it's probably not the spice that does that to him. She squeezes her arm around his waist and much as the match is anticipated to be exciting, they are just so relaxed. 

When Roger takes the first set and the advertisement break starts, Scott kisses Tessa's hairline and asks: "You wanna go out somewhere after this?" She looks up at him biting her lip through her smile "I think I'm just fine here like this." He takes the opportunity and kisses her on the lips quickly. "If the Maestro wins, I'll get you Ben & Jerry's." He says. "Don't you think we've eaten enough evil for one day?" She giggles. "Tess, it's his _nineteenth_ Grand Slam!" Scott makes a face. "Also, can not I treat you?" He adds and she blushes at his attention and he loves that after so much time together he can still cause such a reaction.

When Roger takes the second set, Scott has an idea. "Tessa, you know how the men's and women's champions get to dance at the Wimbledon ball?" She nods. He stands up and offers her his hand. "Well would you be willing to pretend we both just won Wimbledon?" She laughs and again her smile is prettier than anything else he can ever think of. He wraps his arms around her waist and she rests her cheek on his shoulder. They start swaying when Tessa looks up at him and remarks: "There's no music." They both giggle like fools and Scott gets his iPhone and plays whatever song comes up on shuffle. It's a slow one and it's perfect for the swaying they have already started. Such a small moment in front of the television in her living room becomes just a little magical to them. After a while he breathes a quiet "God, I love you" into her hair. She responds with a kiss to his neck. This is a nice way to get their blood circulation going after lying on that sofa for an hour, she thinks. 

The break ends, and Scott is the first to rise from their trance. "All right miss, we have a tennis match to watch." He tugs her hand in the direction of the couch and they resume their previous positions. 

Roger wins the match and subsequently the championship, the two fans in Montreal celebrate. Scott gets Tessa the promised ice cream and they end up watching films all day long. He feeds her some spoonfuls of the chocolatey delight, and steals some from her right before they reach her mouth just to tease her and hear her cute giggles and theatrical frowns. He jokes about having to wear one of her sweatshirts if she is to confiscate his. Life is great and easy and fun for them and it feels like it would continue that way forever. No matter what.

They know they better sleep separately again tonight before another mad week of training starts. But they can't bring themselves to separate, so the last sight Tessa sees that day is Scott's beaming smile and then she drifts off into a blissful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Scott's tweet after RF's Wimbledon win. Excuse me for how this is all fluff and nothing else, but some days maybe that's good to read too. I want to try out and write some different types of fanfiction, so here's my attempt at fluff.
> 
> Please comment to let me know how I can improve my writing, that's always super important. 
> 
> I laughed at what a tennis geek I am though, I almost wrote Scott asking: "Will you be the Garbine Muguruza to my Roger Federer?" and Tessa answering "I'd rather be your Mirka." Obviously that shouldn't have made the cut, but writing this I got a little confused, evidently.


End file.
